After two sick kids wiped out several days of training, I hit the track for a mid-week sort of long run this morning. After pounding out a quick (slow) 10K, I decided to do a bit of strength training in the form of plyometrics.

Now, I'm well aware of the benefits of plyometrics. And I want those benefits. But does it have to be so painful? Really, I did four laps, totalling just under a half-mile. Each lap consisted of two sets of 20 steps of plyometrics. The first four sets were deep knee lunges. The second four sets were bounding.

Now, I can barely walk. Honestly. What is that all about?

The worst part was the final sets of the deep knee lunges. It became a lesson in pushing myself past the "WHY-O-WHY am I doing this? Certainly a 10K run is enough!"

Of course, that's what I find myself saying every time I work on strength training. I really have to stop reading the articles that tout the benefits of strength training and call out those who try to logic their way out of doing it.

Then I could go about my training, happily ignoring strength training.

But Noooooo. I love to read. Even old Triathlete Magazine articles. So, I do the plyometrics and wonder why.

You can call me the Iron Courier. Delivery under three (hours) or it's free. Some background and details, perhaps?

Much like other days of the week, Sundays at our house have a bit of a routine. One key part of that routine involves my kids asking to go to their grandpa's house after church. I typically tell them to ask their grandfather. He typically tells them to check with their dad. Yes, it's a vicious circle. It makes them laugh.

Yesterday was all boys. My daughter went to church with my wife, leaving three generations of males from the Pol family to fend for themselves. Of course, my son wanted to go for lunch at grandpa's.

It worked out well as it gave him the opportunity to read a story to grandpa as part of homework. We ate lunch, watched the first half of the Packer game, and, according to my dad, did all the other things men can't do in mixed company (mostly associated with bodily functions, you know how guys can be).

At half-time, we hurried out the door so we could get home before the second half started. And, of course, left my son's homework packet sitting on my dad's table. He noticed it and called, just as I was pulling into the driveway at my house.

And, also of course, it needed to be turned in, today. That left me with the challenge of juggling the rest of the Packer game, a 12-mile training run, dinner, and returning to my dad's house to get the folder.

Enter MapMyRun. While watching the second half of the game, I mapped out the route I would take to my dad's house, if I were running. Nine miles, one way. A bit much when the plan called for a 12-miler.

Of course, that doesn't consider either the Ironman or the insanity factor. As the Packer game wound down, I changed into my running gear and headed out the door. I told my wife I'd be back in three hours, or the delivery would be free.

Eighteen miles (about four of which were not much fun) and 2:50 later, I walked back in the door, a sweaty pack on my back. Thank goodness for the plastic sleeves they use to send the books/signature sheets home.

Getting back into the training thing, I'm pleased to note that my aerobic capacity hasn't suffered TOO badly. After an easy seven mile run at 9:40 pace, I did three miles at 9 min/mile without having to break anything. It's a far cry from 3:40 marathon pace, but not bad for being off six, er eight, okay, nearly 10 weeks.

There, is, however, a noticeable price I am having to pay. My legs have forgotten how indestructible they are supposed to be. After two easy runs, 10 miles total, I was feeling it in my legs. Perhaps not to the extent experienced after my first marathon, but still...

These are the legs that do back to back 30 mile runs on a weekend. These are the legs that did 50 miles under 10 hours. These are iron legs.

One of the things people grow accustom to as they get older is the loss, through death, of friends from school. Sadly, we sometimes have to face that harsh reality far too early in life. Such was the case, this week, when another classmate was lost to cancer. Specifically, renal cell carcinoma. Few of you reading this know Ron. His family maintained a blog of his battle, here. A close friend established a memorial page, which is likely to grow in time. (Picture courtesy of Sam Nail)

Obviously, any battle with cancer is a painful situation. That pain is shared by the family and friends of the patient. In this case, Ron is survived by a wife and daughter, Vickie and Brooke. In addition to picking up the pieces of a shattered life, Vickie must deal with the burden of medical bills from this battle.

Ron's friends will be hosting a variety of charitable events to help the family. I, too, will be throwing myself into the effort. And the best way I know to do that is to run. As indicated on the Training and Racing page, I have the Green Bay Marathon on the horizon. It is a wonderful opportunity to celebrate the life of Ron, and try to raise money to help ease the financial burden his family now faces.

To that end, I am turning to the Tri Blog Community. Obviously, I know we all receive dozens (hundreds?) of solicitations each month. Most of those, however, don't come with the opportunity to truly test someone's mettle. In this case, the someone is me. The mettle? An ultramarathon.

I have contacted Ron's friends in pursuit of donation information. They have established a memorial for the collection of funds, and that will be posted here as soon as it is available.

Ron spent the last four months in the fight of his life. Nothing I experience in a race, whether 26.2, 40, or 50 miles can compare to the challenges he faced in that battle. But I will use this race to honor his efforts, and to try to help his family.

There are two things I will need from you, my friends and family. First, I will need your help in raising those funds. Second, I need your input on how this "deal" will work. My first thought was $10/mile, 50 mile limit. Something inside me says that's a pretty low bar. My second thought was $20/mile, which seems perhaps a bit high.

My third thought is a bit complex. For everything up to $300 contributed, I will run the marathon in Ron's honor. If that amount is exceeded, I will run a 40-mile ultramarathon. And if $1000 is raised, I will make it a full 50-mile ultramarathon (attempt).

Let me be brutally honest, here. I am ill-trained for a 50-mile ultra. My training for the next several weeks just got interesting, on the chance that I will tackle such a race in three weeks. So any contributions over the agreed amount will force me to truly share in a small portion of the pain experienced by Ron and his family.

Nothing can take away from the anguish of Ron's wife, daughter, family and friends. What we can do is try to honor his battle and minimize the ongoing pain felt by his passing.

Update: I received a note from one of Ron's very good friends with a view interesting comments. He pointed out that Ron was an avid runner, and was well on his way to completing 1000 miles in 2008 when he was diagnosed with cancer. I'll try to find out just how short he was of that goal, and take that into consideration when planning this run.

First, allow me to say I may have reached the pinnacle of my ultramarathoning career. Having participated in the Fall 50, I have a new and profound respect for ultramarathoners, particularly those who complete extreme endurance events in the 100+ category. Fifty was quite enough for this body, and only time will tell if more events at this distance are likely.

Second, I have to say that going into a 50 mile event with three weeks that more closely resemble an off season than a taper is probably less than conducive to a successful race. Between my own head and chest cold, sick kids, and crazy schedules, I only managed one run of about 18 miles during the three weeks between my final long run and the actual race. For the first time since my very first marathon, I went into a race less than 100% confident in my overall training program. I accepted that finishing was less than guaranteed given the circumstances.

Finally, sleeping in a recliner with a sick 3-year old is probably a poor excuse for a good night's sleep prior to a race. Since my daughter takes precedence over any race, that's what we did, and I prayed that sleep was less important than actual rest.

Saturday morning, I woke up at 2:40 a.m. and had a banana while I toasted a bagel and loaded gear into the car. I grabbed a bottle of Gatorade and bagel and hit the road. I made it to the finish line about an hour before the planned shuttle departure, and spent that time talking with a couple of experienced ultramarathoners. They had some helpful information about the course, and I made some new friends.

The bus got us to the start line around 6:30, and the descriptions provided by a few other bloggers helped minimize the surprise. A table, a few runners, and some staff people trying to figure out the sound system while getting the start line banner erected was all there was to see. Packet pick-up was in an entryway for a small shop, and it only took a few runners to make it feel "crowded."

Due to struggles with getting music going, the runner who happened to be the very last person to register volunteered to sing the national anthem. I was impressed, mostly because I can't sing at all, and he did a pretty good job. Just before starting, we recited the Fall 50 motto. "Start at Gills Rock, face south, and don't stop running until somebody gives you a beer."

From the very beginning, I went with my 5/2 run/walk intervals. Despite watching the vast majority of the runners pull ahead and feeling I was going dreadfully slow, I maintained my pace, knowing it was a LONG race. Most bothersome was seeing my nemesis (a guy who seems to be at every race I run) disappear into the distance. The Galloway interval method had served me well on all past long runs, so I wasn't going to abandon it in the race.

The course starts out with a lot of rolling hills. The scenery was amazing due to the turning of the leaves, and cheerleading on the course was primarily from team and pairs runners heading north for their starts (teams started at 8, 9, and 10 a.m. based on expected finishing times). The route was well marked, and only occassionally did I worry that I might have missed a turn.

Aid stations were about every five miles, and stocked with standard fare of Gatorade and water, Clif Bars, and volunteers to provide some help. Certain stations also had oranges, bananas, and pretzels. The station about about mile 28 had chicken soup and broth, bagels, and a wide variety of candy.

For this race, the nutrition plan called for something every 56 minutes. In order, I used a Tri-berry Gu, a Kiwi Strawberry CarBoom, a second Gu, and a package of Lemon Lime Shot Bloks. I had enough on hand to run through that sequence twice. At the mile 28 aid station, I downed a 3 Musketeers bar and grabbed two small packs of M&Ms. For hydration I carried four bottles of Gatorade with Endurolytes powder on my Amphipod. I had a bag with more Endurolytes and refilled as needed.

My one concern with the race was that my nemesis was nowhere to be seen. I have yet to finish after him in a race, and was concerned that 50 miles would be the distance where he defeated me. As I hit 15, then 20 and 25 miles, I grew more and more concerned because not only didn't I pass him, but there was nobody in sight at all. Those concerns were allayed, though, at the "half-way buffet" and mile 28. My nemesis was already there when I ran in, and he was still there when I left. I didn't see him again until he came into the finisher's tent, about 40 minutes after me.

All in all, the race went very well. The primary goal of finishing was accomplished. I also managed to beat my best guesstimate time goal of 9 hours, finishing in 8:58:08 by my watch. I missed my "perfect day" goal of maintaining 10 minute miles (8:20), though that had always been a bit of a pipe dream. Between aid station stops and calls of nature, I knew that was going to be a tough mark to hit.

In the end, despite my best efforts, I did go out a bit too fast. At mile 25, I was seven minutes ahead of pace. That wasn't something I was unable to maintain.

This was a huge accomplishment, and my body tells me 50 miles is enough. Out on the race course, I knew that while recovery would probably go well, the general pain associated with this event was about the limit of what I wanted to endure. During the post race party, a fellow Tri Fox asked me which was more challenging, Ironman or the Fall 50.

I thought about it, and had to concede that the 50 mile run was more difficult. Ironman, though longer, offers a few things the 50 mile race does not. First, the variety of swim, bike, and run allows different muscle groups to be utilized. The "pain" changes.

In ultramarathons, the same body parts get abused for the duration of the event. That probably applies to ultra distance swim and bike events, too. Of course, Ironman is much more painful to the wallet, so it I'd say I'm more likely to run the Fall 50, again, before I do another Ironman.

If there is any advice I would give to somebody considering an ultramarathon, it would be this. Train the way you will race. Most importantly, that means train alone. Unless training with someone with whom you intend to run the race, long runs should be accomplished solo. If this race was any indication of ultras in general, that is how you will race. While I saw runners on the road, the vast majority of the race was spent alone. Only on long stretches of straight road was I likely to see more than one or two runners at a time, and more rare were the times I ran with anyone within speaking distance.

So, I added ultramarathon to the list of accomplishments. And now, it's time for the off season. I'm taking a well deserved couple days off. Then, it's on to the off season swim program, starting with 30 days of swimming in November. I've had a lot of time off from swimming, and will start from "scratch" and see if I can put together a more effective and efficient stroke for the 2009 season.

While looking at options for a new clothes dryer (long story, don't ask), I took the time to dig up pictures from the Fox Cities Marathon. As usual, I got a couple decent shots in the midst of lots of brutal pictures. This first ones is actually near the end of the race. For me, it was about 38 miles into the day.

As I came down the bridge and saw the photographer, I decided to kill two birds with one stone. By "throwing the deuce," I avoided the limp armed pose that plagues me in endurance events AND paid tribute to George Schweitzer. Incidentally, George paid a return visit to his blog. He's been gone a while, with good reason. Something about training for and racing two Ironman events all while working on his PHD. And I thought racing while raising kids was a juggle! To top it off, he finished IM Lake Placid in an amazing 10:18.

I think this was a pretty good picture, and that's one more "lesson" learned from George (though he admits he needs help after an entire summer of peace sign pictures).

As I neared the finish, I was thinking how it would be nice to show some energy rather than my usual dull plod down the chute. I had "One Step Beyond" by Madness playing, and considered doing the Madness Shuffle across the finish line. Figuring that would look pretty odd WITHOUT the music, I just ran back and forth encouraging the crowd to cheer. There were a lot of people coming after me, and the spectators were pretty lifeless. I'm amazed anyone was able to get a picture of me as I was running back and forth.

I'm also amazed that I look as decent as I do in this picture. This was just over 40 miles, and I was beat. Don't believe me? I have proof. And just enough humility to laugh at myself. So, one of the "brutal" pictures.

No, wait. That's "BRUTAL!"

Allow me to present "Death Warmed Over." I love the snarl. Oddly enough, this is also in the finish chute. I went from cheerleading the crowd to an apparently whiny "Are we there, yet?" in just a few feet. Oh well, it keeps me humble.

The series of pictures I have from this race help demonstrate one thing very well. People go through a wide range of emotions and outward appearances during extreme endurance events. Well, that and the fact that I'm just never going to "smile" when I'm racing.

Somebody's just going to have to find a way to snap a picture of me when I'm laughing about something.

About 10 days ago, my kids started coming down with colds. They had slight fevers followed by lots of congestion and coughing. We spent several days wiping noses, pushing fluids, and occassionally disregarding alarmist warnings by providing medicine. Having two sick kids meant a lot of nights sleeping on one floor or another trying to comfort them, or at least keeping them company when they couldn't sleep.

Even so, I managed to fight off what was making them sick. Well, for a while, at least. I consider it good timing, as I'm in the first week of my taper heading into the Fall 50 race on October 25th. It's good that it's taper so taking some time off is a minor deal. It's good that it's the first week of taper as that gives me a couple weeks to fully recover before running 50 miles.

I did manage to get my final long run of 30 miles done on Sunday. And there are a couple of "lessons learned" from that run.

The run went fairly well, though it started a bit late in the day for my liking. When I headed out just after two in the afternoon, it was about 60F. I spent some time debating what to wear, since it was currently warm but likely to get cooler before I finished. In the end, I went with my wool tights, a tri-top for carrying nutrition, and a long sleeve technical shirt over that.

After about 60 minutes, I was regretting that decision. I was getting hot, and I forgot to add Endurolytes to my Gatorade, and figured dehydration might become an issue. That all changed about two hours into the run.

That's when the temperature dropped to between 50F and 55F. And the rain started. And that's how it stayed for the remaining three hours of the run. In the end, I lucked out with my choices, and stayed comfortable despite the deteriorating conditions.

For this run, I tried two "new" products. And I must say, I have a new BFF. By "BFF," I mean Best Flavor Forever. Remember last week's post talking about the sickly sweet taste CarBoom's Kiwi Strawberry gel? After consulting a few people at my local running store, I tested the Apple Cinnamon flavor. In a word, YUM! It's nowhere near as sweet (though still sweeter than Gu), and actually tastes like apple-cinnamon. I'd almost put this stuff on pancakes. While I won't switch from Gu to CarBoom, I will certainly use the two for variety.

I also picked up another pack of Clif Shot Bloks. Last week, I used a sample pack of the cola flavor. I liked the concept, but the flavor was sort of "blah." This week, I tested their black cherry Bloks. They were awesome.

So, after years of testing different products, I'm narrowing down to a "menu" that will work for extreme distance races. Mixing TriBerry Gu, Apple Cinnamon CarBoom, and Black Cherry Shot Bloks I will have a good variety of flavors with a combination of textures. Add to that any flavor Gatorade with Endurolytes powder, and I have a plan that has been quite successful over the past several months.

And now, I'm going to wait and see what happens first. Will I run out of tissue, or will my head explode from sinus pressure? The suspense is killing me.

Okay, I know the saying is usually "WHERE'S a cop when you need one?" Things just worked out differently, this weekend. And it all became clear when I was pulled over while running. (Man am I getting fast!)

On Saturday's long run (a personal record 29 miles), I was crossing a controlled intersection, and I had the green. A lady making a right turn on red went through the all-to-familiar process of "Look left and look right through the runner, look right, gun it," nearly running me down as I ran in the crosswalk. I yelled, slammed my hand on her hood, and jumped so that my feet wouldn't be planted when she hit me. Then she laid on her horn at me.

I managed to avoid getting hit and must have looked like a Hamm brother on the pommel horse. I glanced back in disgust as the women yelled out her window to ask if I was alright. I muttered something and kept running.

A couple miles later, I was stopped by a police officer who asked if I was the guy that got hit by the car at such-and-such an intersection. I told him I was, pointing out that I wasn't actually hit. He told me he had pulled the driver over. While he didn't indicate the outcome of that stop, I was pleased with just the traffic stop. After dealing with the driver, he tracked me down because he was concerned with the way I bounced off the car.

I let him know I had jumped and avoided getting hit, and thanked him for both talking to the driver and for following up with me.

I've said it before and I'll repeat myself here. Drivers just aren't looking for runners, particularly when they are making right turns. If you aren't to their left, they'll never see you. Remember to "drive" for them and remain on the defensive.

I broke my own rule and ran in front of the first car at the intersection. I tend to go behind them. If you do pass in front, always keep your eyes on the vehicle, not the driver. It's more important to see what the car is doing than seek eye contact with the driver. They can look right at you and hit the gas.

Now, for your viewing pleasure, Iron Pol after the second long run of the weekend. To be fair, we wrote the "50 miles" before actually mapping out the course. It was only 48.6 miles. I did 29 miles on Saturday in 4:55 (with 10 minutes in pit stops). That was followed up on Sunday with another 19.6 miles in about 3:45. My son was supposed to be offering me Gatorade. It looks more like he's trying to pour water on my head.

Last night was the final night of our churches vacation Bible school. And, of course, the last night means clean up. After having parents in for a review of the week and a small reception, we attacked all areas of the church with zeal so it would be ready for Sunday's service. That takes time, and it was closing on 10 p.m. when I got home with the kids.

That's late enough for me, and the kids were running on empty. Sadly, after getting them into bed, I had to get ready for the next stage of the day. Training. Because Wednesday was a late night, I postponed my 10-miler from morning to evening. Painful as it was, I grabbed my fuel belt, MP3 player, and lots of shiny/reflective/flashy things and headed out the door.

Ten miles later, I was thinking that minus a few things, it was like finishing an Ironman just before the midnight cut-off. Granted, there hadn't been a 2.4 mile swim or 112 mile bike. And the run was only 10 miles instead of 26.2. And there were no cheering crowds.

Then again, most Ironman competitors don't start the day with a long work day followed by four hours volunteering at church. Going for nearly 14 hours prior to starting a long run made finishing the run tough.

The nice thing was the run, itself. It was cool, clear, and dark. Those are some of my favorite running conditions. About the only thing I would have changed were the smokers on College Avenue (can't smoke in public buildings around here, so I get to run THROUGH the smoke), and the numerous construction zones I had to navigate. Still, it beats running at 2:30 in the afternoon.

There was one other benefit to running so late at night. I wore my regular glasses, and I now KNOW they need to be adjusted. Kids and glasses don't mix.

Okay, let's try again. Several years ago, I started running. Completing a 12-minute mile was quite a chore back then. Between being physically out of shape and weighing close to 225 pounds, I guess that was actually a pretty good pace. Especially since I never gave myself a heart attack.

Over time, I gained considerable fitness. I lost a bit of weight, too. And I got faster. Eventually, I broke the 10-minute barrier, and celebrated. Then, I gained even more fitness, lost more weight, and managed to break the 8-minute wall for a distance greater than three miles.

Then I became a triathlete. I lost a lot more weight, made huge gains in fitness, and got to where I could push 8:30 pace over marathon distance. I even managed to run a sub-42 minute 10K.

Now, it is the eve of that annual 10K race, again. And I find myself staring down the barrel of a sub-40 race. I don't know if I can do it. In fact, given the recent marathon, I doubt it is realistic to expect it out of myself. Still, it's only 1:23 faster than last year.

So, I find myself running the numbers. What does it take to break 40 minutes over 6.2 miles. The answer, 6:26 pace. That is what makes it seem so daunting. You see, 40 minutes doesn't frame it properly. I can run for 40 minutes. In fact, I can run pretty fast for 40 minutes. But 6:26 pace, that puts it in my face. I know just how hard it is to maintain that pace over any kind of distance.

But, I will try. I will place myself right behind the elite runners. I will find a rhythm that feels right, and I will see what happens. If I hit the first two mile markers within 13 minutes, I will keep pushing myself harder and see what happens as I head toward the final 5K.

One thing is certain. It will hurt. But it will only hurt for 40 minutes. Than, I can lay down. Or, it will hurt for 30 minutes and I will know it isn't going to happen, and I can ease up.

But I WILL try. After all, that's what it takes to run with the elites.

And that, my friends, is the truly frightening part. To even be considering an attempt to hang with the elites (well, at least the slow ones) is something I would have thought ridiculous a few years ago.

For those of you who believe you're "too slow," just keep working at it. If you push yourself, you will amaze yourself.

Just who is this Iron Pol?

A former out of shape sailor, who became a marathoner, then a triathlete, Ironman, and ultramarathoner. Now, life has pushed me into short track speed skating. More important than the titles is the lifestyle, and sharing it with others.